


baby, bang it up

by stiction



Series: Primacy (yelling all the way down) [13]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Consensual Somnophilia, Established Relationship, F/F, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Threesome - F/F/F, two-player cooperative partner wrecking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:55:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22624411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stiction/pseuds/stiction
Summary: “Aileron,” Airachnid whined. “It’s been a deca-cycle. Arcee wouldn’t do this to me.”“You’re right,” Aileron mused. "Arcee would spike you for two straight joors and overload on your face.”“And you won’t?”“Not tonight, I don’t think. I missed you too much. No way am I lasting two joors.”
Relationships: Aileron/Airachnid, Aileron/Airachnid/Arcee, Aileron/Arcee (Transformers), Airachnid/Arcee (Transformers)
Series: Primacy (yelling all the way down) [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1424047
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	baby, bang it up

**Author's Note:**

> *kylie jenner voice* rise and shiiiiine

Aileron was on Caminus again. 

She knew it was a recharge flux because the starlight that hit her wings as she flew out from the shadow of Graxiv-Janus IV was warm. Solumnus was so far out of reach that Caminus had rarely ticked above 280K. This high up, her frame should’ve been collecting tiny shards of ice. 

Instead, she eased into a jet stream over a city her processor recalled as lower Tetrahex. It was wildly out of place, a Camien planet with Cybertron's mountains lining the horizon, but the thought that Caminus could have shining, sprawling cities again was nice. 

Her fluxes weren’t usually so fantastical. The full defrag she’d initiated with her recharge must’ve had a lot to work on after quartices of quick scans. 

Aileron was circling around for a landing when her chronometer ticked over to 0530 hours and the sprawling, sparkling landscape vanished as her main processor onlined. She’d forgotten to turn off her alarm. Of course.

At least this time she knew she didn't have to rush out the door. The recharge haze lingered in her processor and had her slow in booting her optics up. They cycled lazily as she rolled onto her back, tracking the lines on the ceiling from solvent damage and patches that hadn't set quite right. Starlight had just started to bring the berthroom out of darkness and into a deep blue. 

She felt out across the berth covers, but the space next to her was empty and cool. Arcee was long gone to training, then. Aileron let her optics close again and rolled onto her other side, reaching further until her hand brushed warm plating. There was a spur set along one edge, a deliberately set deterrent that was, for now, retracted. The sharp metal flexed under her touch. 

Ah. Airachnid _had_ made it back last night after all. 

Aileron snuck a peek to make sure Airachnid was still asleep--and of course she was, she never woke before midday if she could help it--before she slid closer. Airachnid barely moved, even when Aileron inched an arm over her chassis. 

_Poor thing_ , Aileron mused. She’d been gone for longer than normal and impossible to hail on comms. Smuggling was hard work. She tightened her grip and Airachnid muttered something indistinct, pressing into the hold. They could afford to lay around in bed and be useless today. Aileron ducked her head to kiss the base of Airachnid’s rotors. This early, she was ready to slip back into recharge, but Airachnid arched into the first brush of her mouth as a blip of charge jumped between them. 

Aileron froze. Her frame answered with an instinctive shift of energy to her array. Her wings tingled and twitched.

 _Ah_ , she thought again. _Well._

It never hurt to wake Airachnid up sweet. She rubbed her thumb along the edge of Airachnid's chestplate and let it dip into the well of her biolight track. 

“Feeling pent up?” Aileron murmured, pressing her mouth to the rotors' base again. Her hand dragged down Airachnid’s ridged chassis to her hip fairings. At the slight jump of armor she let her tongue slip between two rotor joints. She traced the immobile track with her mouth until Airachnid’s rotors jerked in place. Aileron didn’t flinch away. 

They had done much, _much_ more to Airachnid’s rotors without accidentally disengaging her mode lock. 

She tightened her grip, pulling Airachnid’s aft closer to the cradle of her hips. Airachnid had taken her heavy skirt armor off before getting into berth, and her small frame fit neatly against Aileron’s. The base of Airachnid’s rotors juddered again when she licked a short stripe down one thin length. It tasted like dust and polluted clouds, but a jolt of charge bridged in the contact and sent a shiver through her protoform. 

Her fingers dipped beneath the crests of Airachnid’s hip plating. There was a spot just under there where the joint’s oil supply tangled with a delicate wire and if she twisted it around her smallest finger Airachnid would… 

_There._

She tugged the loop. A flick of a piston and Airachnid’s frame melted against hers with a hushed exvent. The cool spot Arcee had left a few joors ago had vanished. 

_Her loss_ , Aileron thought with a sigh. They had fragged the night before, a little overcharged after Arcee’s win in the ring. She’d had to splint two of Arcee’s fingers together after the fight, but that had only meant that Arcee had to use her other hand to work Aileron open. The memory had her gripping tighter, working another finger under Airachnid’s plating to stroke her hydraulics. Could Airachnid tell, when she had come to bed? Had she had one of her jealous tics, the kind she liked to pretend she was above having? 

Aileron moved upward in a trail of open-mouthed kisses to slip her tongue just under the base of Airachnid’s helm. She had long since learned almost all of the spots where Airachnid’s armor failed to cover the entirety of her protoform. Reformats were not on the table, Airachnid had said before, no matter if the war had been delayed or diverted. Aileron didn’t understand it all that well, but it just meant they had to get a little creative. 

Like this--like blowing a gentle exvent across the atmospheric sensor she had dampened and relishing in the gradual uptick of warmth in Airachnid’s chassis. The heat under her own plating was climbing faster than she’d banked on. Aileron held off on letting her cooling fans activate. It was difficult to drag Airachnid out of recharge before she was ready, but she could never tell what would tip the scale. She let her wings fan wide instead, drawing cool air in across her backstrut. 

The uninhibited crawl of heat in her protoform made Aileron squirm anyway. They didn’t have to worry about being quiet much anymore, least of all their internal fans, but the soft sweltering seemed to linger most in her array. She rocked against Airachnid’s frame, gently, just enough that her panel pressed down against her own hardware. The latch popped; she relocked it before her panel could retract and held herself still. Her fans had clicked on without direct permission, turning so slowly they did nothing but push the lightest of breezes through her internals.

When she pulled Airachnid back against her again, an answering charge grounded in her hands and hips. 

“Frag,” she whispered. She dug her fingers under Airachnid’s plating again with a quick tangle of wires and relished the sudden spin of Airachnid’s cooling fans. They didn’t stay on just yet, but she could help that along. 

Aileron kept one hand tucked beneath Airachnid’s hip plating while the other slid under her frame and dipped inward, teasing the panel over her array. Airachnid’s legs tensed together around Aileron’s hand, the pressure sweet and tight. She stroked her middle finger against a transformation seam and Airachnid’s shudder passed through her own frame in tandem. 

As she tightened her grip, rubbing her fingertip against and then into that seam, Airachnid’s aft shifted further back in her lap. Their frames were hot enough to steam when Aileron tongued the side of Airachnid’s neck. She felt the soft click of Airachnid’s panels shifting under her hand. They moved slowly, sluggish and warring between her clear exhaustion and her mounting charge. 

Aileron muffled her groan against Airachnid’s collar as her fingers met the soft mesh of Airachnid’s array. Her hand slipped inwards through the tensing of Airachnid’s thighs to find her valve already wet. Her spike covering was heavy with charge as well, iris trembling. She paid it some close attention, rubbing her slick fingertips over the metal until it gave and watching as Airachnid’s spike pressurized segment by segment. 

Her spike was the same as Aileron remembered: slender and delicately piped. It felt good inside of her, she knew, and it felt good in the palm of her hand as she gave it a loose stroke. Tiny pricks of static jumped from the gaps in plating to her joints and back again until Airachnid’s spike was fully out. Alpha Centauri had risen high enough that the light in the room was pale purple, but it was dark enough still that when Aileron leaned further over Airachnid’s shoulder she could watch the biolights on her spike pulse in time with her sparkbeat. 

Carefully--slowly--Aileron thumbed the head of Airachnid’s spike. There was a quiet clicking as Airachnid’s internal fans switched on at last. Warm air gusted over Aileron’s arm as she traced the fine ridges right down to the root of Airachnid’s spike and then lower. Her valve was wet, the silicone even hotter than Airachnid’s outer plating. Aileron knew it just as well, knew the node placements without even looking. Her thumb traced through the gathered lubricant and slid back up to Airachnid’s anterior node. She rubbed a slow circle and was treated to a tremor in the stillness of Airachnid's field. Her finer plating rattled in a wave from helm to pedes and Aileron clamped her own plating tight to halt her shudder. 

Aileron bit her lip, pressing her forehelm tight to the side of Airachnid’s helm as her own panel finally clicked back. Her spike extended right up against the warmth of Airachnid’s aft and smeared lubricant across the sleek black plating. Charge lanced through Aileron’s systems, all her processes exhausted and acutely straining now with the effort of holding back. 

She needed--Primus, she _needed_ and she could hardly believe that Airachnid hadn’t come out of recharge yet. Aileron’s hand slid further down, easing Airachnid’s legs apart until she could slide two fingers through the mesh of Airachnid’s hot valve. She dipped gently inward, not quite past the rim but deep enough that Airachnid’s spike jumped against her chassis. A quiet buzz of static crackled out of Airachnid’s vocalizer.

Aileron was past waiting. Condensation beaded Airachnid’s collar fairing where Aileron panted and then closed her dentae over the ridge. She bit down hard enough to dent. 

Airachnid moaned, her frame jumping and her field broadcasting the moment she slipped out of recharge into waking. The hitch of arousal disrupted the content expanse of her recharge and left her EM field reflecting a subdued, confused interest. 

“Al’ron?” she murmured, vocalizer hitching. “‘Cee?”

“Mm-hm,” Aileron groaned around the plating in her mouth. She let go, pressing a hard kiss to the marks as her hands started to shake where she stroked Airachnid’s valve. “Just me, sweetspark.”

She felt the moment Airachnid put two and two together and came up with ‘fragging’ in the twitching readjustment of her frame and in the swell of her field. It was growing richer now that she was coming awake. Aileron tangled her own in it in a feverish mesh of want. The muted roll of Airachnid’s only made her more determined. She had felt that field strong enough to trip her physical sensors. 

Airachnid’s engine hitched into a higher gear, her fans spinning faster with a relieved whine. Her hand slid down past Aileron’s gauntlets and drew those fingers more firmly against her valve. 

“Gonna frag me?” Airachnid mumbled. She urged Aileron’s fingers up and into her. The pressure around her digits sent a frisson of charge through Aileron’s sensors and straight to her spike. 

Airachnid rolled her hips into the touch and drew one knee out and further up the bed. Her valve tensed around Aileron’s fingers as she sank them in to the knuckle. 

“You want it?” Aileron asked, moving with her. Her answer came in the throb of Airachnid’s valve as she was tipped forward and drawn half-beneath Aileron’s frame. 

This time when Aileron hitched her hips forward, her spike finally thrust against Airachnid’s array and dragged against the backs of her fingers. An arc of charge popped at the contact. Airachnid’s breathy moan was muffled in the berth covers and the pace of Aileron’s fuel pump cranked up at the thought of making her moan again, louder.

At the next thrust Airachnid laughed, a soft, gasping sound. “Want it,” she said. “Wanted it for cycles.”

“I s’pose you’re gonna get it, then,” Aileron said. Airachnid’s field tangled hot and wild with her own, growing stronger as she overcame her fatigue. “Ready?”

Airachnid hummed. The calipers of her valve twitched around Aileron’s fingers, pulled her further in. 

“That's not an answer.” Aileron gave her a quick pump of her fingers and then held them there, deep and unmoving. 

Airachnid lasted barely a moment before she squirmed and tried to push back. She’d used that trick before--most of her tricks were familiar by now--and Aileron was ready, holding her still with a hand on her aft despite the full riot in her own frame. She ignored her fluffed plating and the heavy charge beneath it and focused on pulling in her field. It ticked in, in, _in_ , until all she felt was Airachnid’s hand grasping at her wrist, the hum turning into a long whine. 

Aileron let her field go. It crashed into Airachnid’s with a frenetic shift in tone. She cheated and let through all the fondness and relief she’d felt upon seeing Airachnid home in one piece, dragged it out to try and loose every hidden scrap of emotional frequency she could. There were deeper things there that Airachnid refused to say out loud. A resounding need rolled back through her field from Airachnid, mixed with a blunted edge of frustration and affection. Aileron pressed her mouth to the edge of Aileron’s frown and let off another loving pulse of her field. 

“Frag off,” Airachnid hissed, her talons digging under the edge of Aileron’s forearm plating with a fraction of her normal force. Aileron barely felt it. “I want it, want you, I’m _ready_.”

Aileron shuttered her optics and kissed along Airachnid’s collar until the frantic mix of their fields eased to a familiar tangle. 

She brought them back online to watch Airachnid’s face as she drew her fingers free and replaced them with the head of her spike. She ground up until her plating caught Airachnid’s node. Sparks jumped between them as Aileron rocked her hips back, taking hold of her spike and then pressing up and _in_. The flare of Airachnid’s optics was well worth the effort of keeping her own online through the wash of heat. Her spark twisted, throbbing in her chassis as Airachnid moaned beneath her. 

Airachnid was tight, always was, her frame size just small enough to make the difference. Aileron slowed when she felt the too-firm clench of Airachnid’s calipers and paused to bury her face against the sensory flares of Airachnid’s helm. She kissed the base of one, traced the slender twist of another with her tongue until Airachnid’s frame eased and opened to her.

Her spike sank deeper and deeper still into the clutch of Airachnid’s valve. Aileron was cycling vents through her open mouth by the time her hip plates met Airachnid’s aft, grasping at her thigh armor and grinding further in. 

“Beautiful,” she gasped, “Primus, ‘Rachnid, you’re beautiful.”

“I know,” Airachnid said. Aileron could hear the undercurrent of tension, feel it in her unrestrained field. She settled one hand firm on Airachnid’s chassis and thrust down into the twitching mesh around her spike. 

Charge licked between their frames already. It lingered in the cradle of Aileron’s hips, in the patches of oral lubricant on Airachnid’s collar. 

Aileron laid one forearm next to Airachnid’s helm and rocked her weight forward. She pressed her weight into the hand on Airachnid’s hip, and felt the answering tremble of her frame. Warmth spread from Aileron’s array outward as she thrust slowly, dragging the head of her spike across Airachnid’s deep-set nodes. 

“Didn’t forget how much you like being pinned,” Aileron murmured. 

Airachnid moaned and pressed back in an uncoordinated grind. It was exactly what Aileron had missed. She’d fragged Airachnid at her smoothest, with the easy parting of her thighs and her sweet talking that soon gave way to thinly disguised orders. She liked that, loved that, too, but this was something special, something rare. This way, still fuzzy from recharge, Airachnid didn’t--or couldn’t--think to modulate her responses. Instead her plating flared wide and one hand grasped at Aileron’s wrist while the other dug into the berth covers.

It was sweet. Aileron offlined her optics and just felt for a moment every place they were connected. The sweltering join of their frames, the lock of her field in Airachnid’s. Her open vents dumped heat into the room and against the berth, against Airachnid, whose vents felt almost cool in comparison. 

_‘Copters_ , Aileron thought with a carefully kept burst of fondness. 

The roil of Airachnid’s field, all sharp desperation, became a smooth, hot blanket of _want._

Aileron rolled her hips and that bank of heat flared. She drew it into her own field and cast her own out to cover Airachnid. A tick of frustration flashed past her and she thought: _ah_. This was going to be the point in the ‘facing that Airachnid chose to get bossy. 

And there it was, the commanding toss of her helm. Just before she could say ‘harder’, or ‘faster’, or scrape together some sort of taunt, Aileron snapped her hips forward, hard enough that only her hand on Airachnid’s hip stopped her from sliding up the berth. 

A soft ‘oh’ slipped from Airachnid’s vocalizer instead as her frame shuddered. Aileron did it again, thrusting hard--this time she stayed deep and ground her hips forward, _slow_ again, all of Aileron’s focus on the exchange of charge between her spike and the mesh of Airachnid’s valve. Her hand slid lower, big enough to span almost the entirety of Airachnid’s array at once. Her fingertips traced Airachnid’s node with an easy touch, rubbing another firm circle when the first got her a muffled curse. Her thumb joint hooked neatly around the base of Airachnid’s spike while her smallest finger nestled right where they met, tingling with the sparks arcing through their mixed lubricants. Aileron stroked the edge of Airachnid’s valve, tense with the strain and still heating further.

She pulled out and on the next roll of her hips nudged the tip of her finger in with her spike. Charge crackled right down Airachnid’s backstrut as she ground back against the stretch, an extra slick of lubricant easing the way. The bump of pressure hit the ridge on Aileron’s spike in just the right spot to make her cables tense with a shock of pleasure.

“Want more?” Aileron asked. She pressed another fingertip against the stretched rim of Airachnid’s valve. 

“I want you to get on with it _,”_ Airachnid snapped, even as she pushed into the touch. “Stop playing with me.”

“Playing with you?” Aileron repeated, stilling her frame. Airachnid’s valve gave a frustrated pulse before Aileron pulled out entirely and sat up on her heels. She pinned Airachnid’s frame with a patient hand, holding her down when she tried to shift back onto Aileron’s spike. “Oh, sweetspark.” 

A low groan eked out from Airachnid's folded arms. “Ugh. Please?”

“Good girl, using your words.” Aileron’s other hand worked its way between Airachnid’s legs, two fingers slipping into her valve. “But I think you might need a refresher on playing.”

She rocked her fingers a few times, just enough to melt the tension in Airachnid’s frame a touch, before she pulled out again and hauled Airachnid’s hips up into her lap, slim legs falling on either side of her own. 

“Ailer _on_ ,” Airachnid whined. She pushed up onto her arms and shot Aileron a look over her shoulder. A pat on the aft didn’t do much to soothe her. 

“Shh. Be patient.”

“It’s been a deca-cycle. Arcee wouldn’t do this to me.”

“You’re right,” Aileron mused, tracing the edges of Airachnid’s valve with her thumbs before she slipped them in. A tremor raced down Airachnid’s frame when she pulled a bit, grinding into each sensor before spreading her open. “Arcee would spike you for two straight joors and overload on your face.” She didn’t miss the way Airachnid’s valve tried to cycle down at the thought.

“And you-- _oh_ \--you won’t?”

“Not tonight, I don’t think. At least not yet.” She slid her middle two fingers into Airachnid’s valve, savoring the wave of need in her field. “I missed you too much. No way am I lasting two joors.” 

Finger-fragging Airachnid was always a unique opportunity. Aileron could take in all of her reactions with none of the distractions of spiking. Aileron watched, rapt, as Airachnid tried to shift back into each rock of her hand despite having no leverage. She eased a third finger in so the stretch was a scant bit more than her spike and set a steady pace. Her fingers were shorter than her spike, but like this Aileron could get at the sensitive spots at the anterior of Airachnid’s valve. If she angled just right and crooked her middle finger, she could hit the internal base of Airachnid’s spike housing.

“Oh, frag,” Airachnid whined when she did just that. 

Aileron worked her other hand up under Airachnid’s array to play with her node. The first pass made Airachnid drop to her elbows, shivering with a jolt of charge that suffused Aileron’s protoform. On the second she lingered again, running her fingertips along where her other hand was rocking into Airachnid’s valve. She spread the lubricant on her fingers back up to Airachnid’s node and up around the base of her spike. 

She couldn’t get a proper hand around Airachnid’s spike, not like this, especially not with the constant stilted hitch of Airachnid’s hips, but Aileron made sure to work her fingers over the base of her spike with every few circles of her node. 

Airachnid didn’t let them do this often. It was too vulnerable, Aileron guessed, and she couldn’t truly argue with that as she glanced up at Airachnid’s face half-buried in one of their berth pillows. Her gaze was hazy, dentae sunk into her lower lip, her optics flickering back into focus as they slid to meet Aileron’s stare. She took the expression in, dismissing the analysis her HUD provided in favor of cataloguing the microscopic shifts on Airachnid’s face herself. 

She could almost meditate like this. The easy rhythm of her hands, the way Airachnid’s frame responded to her touch, the tight lock of their fields. _Eat your spark out, Pyra Magna_. She came closer to full-frame contentment in this berth than she ever had tagging along after the Torchbearers. 

Aileron was drawn out of her thoughts by the sudden hard squeeze of Airachnid’s valve. 

“Close?” She murmured. Her spark raced.

Airachnid’s shaky nod was _very_ gratifying. 

“Frag me,” Airachnid said, visibily holding back another moan. “ _Please_.”

“I will,” Aileron promised. She let her hands keep the same steady pace despite the random twitching of Airachnid’s frame as her charge climbed. Her own charge hadn’t faded either--she’d gotten another ‘please’, a _genuine_ ‘please’, and they were barely into what normally would count as a warmup. “One overload now, one later, okay?”

Airachnid nodded again. 

“Attagirl, beautiful.” Aileron leaned forward over Airachnid’s frame, kissing her backstrut, and flicked her thumb over Airachnid’s node. 

Overload swept through Airachnid’s frame before the fifth pass of Aileron’s thumb. Her valve cycled down hard enough that Aileron could barely rock her fingers through the tightening calipers, and her frame followed, every cable and plate locking in place before the tension dissipated in a wave of loosed energy. The charge grounded in Aileron’s plating, making her spike jump again and her hands tingle. Airachnid went limp across Aileron’s thighs, as relaxed as she ever got. 

Aileron slowed her fingers, running her other hand over Airachnid’s plating in easy strokes until the last little arcs faded away. 

“Still want my spike?”

“Yes,” Airachnid said, voice edging right back up to a staticky whine. “You promised.”

“I did,” Aileron sighed, smiling. Without the distraction of working Airachnid towards an overload, her own charge was much harder to ignore. Primus, she was so revved up that her HUD spit out an error message about the excessive level of charge in her frame. She swiped it away without reading and rose up on her knees, sliding Airachnid forward out of her lap. Elbow joints buckling, Airachnid ended up with her aft in the air, her weight resting on her chest. It was a good look for her, Aileron thought. She’d said so before. Especially good if Airachnid was supposed to keep her hands behind her back, holding fast to a baton or a scrap of mesh. 

Aileron paused to run her hands over Airachnid’s aft and down her thighs. She was already a little scraped up, paint transfers and smears of lubricant surrounding her array. They’d end up buffing all that out later, whenever someone came up with the functioning capabilities to do it, but… She’d come to bed without her heavy skirt armor on. Maybe if Aileron asked nicely, _real_ nicely, Airachnid would leave the easily hidden scuffs. Arcee liked that kind of slag--the marks that took a while to fade. Aileron had lots of kibble, plenty of places to hide little bite marks and paint transfers, but most of Airachnid’s frame was on display as soon as she left their habsuite. 

She rubbed her thumb over the rim of Airachnid’s valve. There was a twitch of calipers, a jolt of rallying charge that leapt from Airachnid’s array to Aileron’s hand and made her joint twitch. Her whole frame was running hot enough to steam solvent, the charge rerouting from her processor to her spike high enough to slow her thoughts down by full seconds. 

“Aileron.” A hand touched Aileron’s flank armor. Airachnid was peeking over her own shoulder armor, optics deep pink. “I want you inside me.”

Aileron didn’t think much about it beyond that. 

The head of her spike met Airachnid’s valve--her sensors registered _wet,_ and _warm_ , and she grasped the base and pushed in. The stretch wasn’t nearly as tight now, though Airachnid’s low moan came with a ripple of her valve. Her fingers squeezed Aileron’s leg. Aileron sank in with one slow thrust and sat there a moment, her servos tight and trembling on Airachnid’s hips. 

“Good?” she asked. 

“Fantastic,” Airachnid hissed. A flash of pain registered beneath the rush of pings to Aileron’s reward systems. Airachnid’s claws scraped thin gouges in Aileron’s paint as her hand drew back to the berth covers beneath her chassis, arms wrapping around one of the pillows. “Get _on_ with it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Aileron muttered. Her dentae sank into her lower lip as she adjusted her grip, hiked Airachnid’s hips higher. When her spike slipped out a bit, the drag of Airachnid’s nodes against the ridges of her plating threatened to overwhelm her. 

Aileron held fast and snapped her hips forward, quick enough that Airachnid’s frame almost slipped her grip. The swell of charge in Aileron’s frame raced to pool in her chassis and below. Her optics glitched in technicolor. She could feel the ailerons on her wings flicking in time with her sparkbeat. 

She paused, vents straining, and moved one hand to the small of Airachnid’s back. Her fingertips nudged at the tiny gap in the plating there and dug in. An involuntary yelp slipped from Airachnid’s mouth, drowned out by Aileron’s own groan as Airachnid’s calipers went snug around her spike. She hunched over to press an apologetic kiss to the side of Airachnid’s helm and held her there, pinned, as she moved in a slow grind. 

“You--ah--you _promised_ ,” Airachnid whined again. 

“I did,” Aileron said. She kissed Airachnid’s helm again, her cheek, then dipped her shoulder nearly to the berth to finally press her mouth to Airachnid’s. The tension in Airachnid’s frame grew. Her sharp dentae pricked against Aileron’s tongue as she licked into Airachnid’s mouth, then pulled away before she could be bitten, shifting her weight to her knees. 

She _had_ promised. The overload her array was slowly accumulating pushed her on. If the heat of the room and the high gear of her engine was any indication, it would be good. 

The rhythm came nearly automatically. Airachnid liked it fast, liked it hard, so Aileron gave it to her. Her fingers dug hard into the plating of Airachnid’s hip, the other hand pressing her down to the berth and then shifting up to pin her by the fine curve of her neck. Plated, of course, plated with the thin delicate sheeting that made her want to bite until the metal dented and gave way. They hadn’t talked seriously about doing that, not yet, so she clenched her jaw and pulled Airachnid back onto her spike. 

She slid the hand on Airachnid’s hip in toward her array and ground the palm of her hand over the base of Airachnid’s spike again, rewarded by a heady ripple of calipers.

Airachnid’s thighs twitched further together when Aileron squeezed her spike and stroked over her node in the same vent. Another hard thrust and Airachnid’s legs slid out from beneath her hips. She fumbled for a pillow and Aileron pulled out to help shove it beneath Airachnid’s hips. 

“If you stop again I am dooming you to the _pit_ ,” Airachnid gasped. “I _swear_ \--”

Her vocalizer fritzed, the static drowned out by the shrill of her fans when Aileron straddled her legs and sank her spike back into Airachnid’s valve.

It was improbably tighter this way, with Aileron’s thighs braced against Airachnid’s hips as she thrust forward. Charge raced up and down her spinal strut and filled out the space around her wings until every motion had her trembling, struts aching. She shoved Airachnid down to the berth with the hand on her backstrut. The plating there strained and threatened to buckle, but she knew it would hold. Airachnid had made sure of that.

Aileron looked up and the thin window above the berth caught her optics. The rising sun, the sky peeking through the buildings empty for megamiles. Like her recharge flux, the light was bright and promised warmth, promised health and prosperity and _safety_ . Confused, her flight engines rumbled in an attempt to kick on. She cut the power, but not before her processor recreated one clear sensory note: the moment just after takeoff where she had fought the pull of gravity. It was dizzying to feel here, taken so far down from the sky, the dissonance crashing through her processor with all the subtlety of a warhammer. Her helm dipped so she could watch the jolt of Airachnid’s frame every time they moved together. _That_ she could focus on, the feedback immediate and in tune with her visual.

She thrust harder into the wet heat of Airachnid’s valve. She felt the rub and swell of each ridge of her spike over Airachnid’s nodes deep in her chassis. Her charge was building faster than she had accounted for even with the long lead-up, even with missing Airachnid, even with _out_ Arcee there to really light the berth on fire. 

_Primus_ , Airachnid looked so small under Aileron’s hands. Her armor was flared as wide as it would go, wide enough that the shining flex of her internals was visible between the plates. Aileron wanted to sink her fingers in there and hold tight. 

She settled for changing the angle, rolling her hips to catch the one buzzing node at the back of Airachnid’s valve that always set her off.

“Oh, frag,” Airachnid whimpered as Aileron dragged the head of her spike over that node and hitched her hips to stay there. She could feel the sudden swell of Airachnid’s charge even before Airachnid buried her face in a pillow and started babbling. Her hips jerked back against Aileron and then forward into the pillow beneath her hips. 

The heavy snap of charge had Aileron thrusting sharply downwards, and that was all that it took to finally tip Airachnid into overload. Her valve cycled tight and hot around Aileron’s spike in waves as her frame trembled.

Before the crackle of energy beneath her plating had even faded, Airachnid was rocking back against her with a whine. Aileron set her hand on the berth beside Airachnid’s shoulder and laid her full weight into her hips. 

She was making noise, making a likely embarrassing amount of noise, but her processor had forgotten how to control her vocalizer output. Airachnid craned her neck around again, her optics dazed and her grip landing tight around one of Aileron’s gauntlets. Aileron’s energy levels hit redline in a nanoklik as her overload finally freed the charge flooding her circuits.

It surged from her array outward, every strut and cabling vibrating with the excess. Half her background processes crashed and rebooted so slowly that her HUD tried to provide percentage updates. She dismissed them, holding fast to Airachnid’s frame as transfluid slicked the last few thrusts of her hips. 

“Oh, Solus,” she heard herself murmuring as her audials finally clicked on. The cables in her legs were vibrating again, threatening to give out.

“S’not my name,” Airachnid sighed without any actual anger. 

“Might as well be.” Aileron’s weight slumped forward onto her elbows. "I feel like I just crawled out of the well again."

It was tempting, so tempting, to slip back into recharge like this, but Airachnid squirmed beneath her, rapping her knuckles on Aileron’s gauntlet until she rolled them both to the side. Like she was crushing Airachnid or something. Primus, she knew better than that. She ran her hands down Airachnid’s sides and eased her off of her spike with a bit-off groan. Her frame held the ungentle ache of exertion, like she’d really flown a circuit of Cybertron. Even her spark was exhausted, the chamber prickling with residual charge.

Airachnid settled back against her, her field soft and steady where it brushed Aileron’s. 

“Gonna recharge some more?” 

“Maybe,” Airachnid said. “ _Someone_ woke me up early.”

"Now that's just rude." Aileron tweaked the edge of Airachnid’s spike housing just hard enough to make her frame twitch. “Sounds like a real aft.”

“Oh, she is.” Airachnid smacked blindly behind herself, her claws glancing off Aileron’s armor before Aileron took her wrist and kissed her hand. “Let me go already, you brute. A girl needs her beauty rest.”

"You're _already_ beautiful," Aileron said, squeezing the armor under Aileron's chestplate until she squirmed, laughing. "Okay, okay. Switch your optics off already."

The cozy silence that settled over the room didn’t last long enough for Aileron to slip back into recharge.

All of the prickling across her spark gathered into a conduction point that popped and held fast. It pulled at her frame the way Airachnid's field meshed with the current of her own. The tug on her spark coalesced into a warm thread that bled curious amusement. She pushed her contentment into it and the bond, growing stronger still, shone with what felt like a wink. 

Through the pop and tick of their cooling engines, Aileron heard the front door of the habsuite open. She dragged an idle hand through the mess on Airachnid’s chassis and considered saying something. It could wait. Airachnid was strutless and sleepy in her arms.

There was no reason to get her all worked up again just yet.

**Author's Note:**

> happy valentine's day!
> 
> welcome back to my primacy contributions, where i can't focus on the core story for more than five minutes at a time and instead just keep writing pwps around the plot because man, i love these wives and their highly criminal girlfriend
> 
> if this is your first primacy fic: primacy is an idw/aligned mixed canon fic where ratchet gets the matrix instead of orion. the 4 million year war ends up being a 4 million year march to building a cybertron for the people and (almost) everyone turns out better for it .
> 
> fic title from mitski's 'washing machine heart', chapter titles from king princess' 'hit the back'
> 
> [the triple a playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2kNYs6LhQquN4oA7mJc48x)


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